


hungry for a poke

by poisedwalrus



Series: not only plan but also believe [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Crack Treated Seriously, Gen, Mood Whiplash, Post-Spider-Man: Homecoming, but does it really count as crack if smffh did it first, everyone at midtown hates each other like siblings, except for when they ambush him right outside his school, peter's classmates are fifteen not blind, peter's waiting for the customers who only come at night, you mess with one of us you mess with all of us
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-30
Updated: 2019-07-30
Packaged: 2020-07-27 05:51:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20040961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poisedwalrus/pseuds/poisedwalrus
Summary: “Uh,” says Ned, “Uh, the Decathlon team may be under the assumption that— that you’re a, um— ““—A prostitute,” MJ finishes.Peter looks at them. Then down at himself. Then back at them.“What?” he says.Peter’s classmates are a little confused, but they got the spirit.(Set after “try to stop the paradise we’re dreaming of”)





	hungry for a poke

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is actually set after another fic in the series that will start being published tomorrow. I'm just uploading these in the order I complete them, not the order they're set in in the fictional timeline, so. Fair warning.
> 
> I do think they all stand alone okay, though.

At this point in his life, Peter has resigned himself to being the vigilante wrangler slash go-to patissier for everyone in the superhero phone tree. So, he really shouldn’t be surprised when he’s exiting the gates of Midtown Tech and Hawkeye materializes out of nowhere to throw an arm around his shoulders.

Peter still shrieks and whips his hands up. 

Hawkeye grabs Peter’s wrists before he can smack him and web him across the street and reveal that he’s Spider-Man in front of his entire school. This is something that’s happened in Peter’s nightmares before, so he’s pretty grateful.

Peter quickly detaches himself from Hawkeye’s grip and says, “Thanks.”

Then he says, “Are you crazy? Why are you showing up at my school?”

Hawkeye frowns, hurt. “Hey, it took a lot of work to get this address. And this was the only location where I knew I could contact you.”

“At school? Not— I don’t know— by text or email?”

“I told you this address is the only one I could find!”

“You’re a super spy!” 

“I’m retired. Besides, everyone else shows up at your school. Why can’t I?”

That’s a good point. Most of Peter’s vigilante coworkers know how anxious he is about dragging trouble home, so they try not to meet him at his apartment unless Aunt May invites them explicitly. Daredevil had looked very awkward pushing May’s attempt at curry around the good china plates. Deadpool had acted ecstatic and held a long conversation with May about feng shui until she turned her back for three seconds, and he took the opportunity to somersault out the kitchen window.

So, yeah, Peter’s crime-fighting friends like to meet him at school.

But— “Everyone else usually comes in disguise. Or they’re not, like, famous Avengers with a fan club at my school, so.”

“Aw, I have a fan club?” Hawkeye says. “Are you in it?”

Peter glares. Hawkeye raises his hands above his shoulders. They step closer to the gate to allow a couple of seniors to walk through.

“So, why’ve you been trying to contact me? Do you need—“ Peter leans forward and whispers “— Spider-Man?”

Hawkeye blinks.

“No,” he says. 

They pause while a group of freshmen swarms by.

“Then what?” Peter asks.

Hawkeye rubs the back of his neck.

He says, “My kids have been going crazy about your desserts since the wedding. Can you make me a dozen of those little roll things? The really flaky ones, with the chocolate.”

Hawkeye holds out a twenty dollar bill.

Peter takes a deep breath. Then another.

Then he looks towards the sky and wonders why Thor won’t come smite him with his lightning already.

——

Peter’s been kind of busy these days. He bakes cookies for the Defenders and pastries for the Avengers. He dances with Black Widow and jogs with the Falcon. He gets pizza with two of the remaining Howling Commandos, and he spends most of the weekend with genius-billionaire-philanthropist Mr. Stark.

Oh, and he’s Spider-Man.

So, Peter doesn’t notice anything weird until Flash walks past him after fourth period and doesn’t try to shoulder check him into the lockers. He just kind of gives Peter a judgy once-over and then stalks off.

“Peter?” Ned says, as Peter watches Flash walk away.

“Nothing,” Peter shakes his head. Maybe Flash has the stomach flu or something. Peter will buy a bottle of water from the vending machine and leave it in an easily snatch-able place for him later.

But, it doesn’t stop there.

Betty tracks Peter down in the library and strongly recommends that he borrow some books on the history of child labor laws in New York. In fact, she recommends these books so strongly that she takes Peter’s student ID and borrows them for him. 

Peter isn’t mad. The books are pretty interesting, to be honest, and Peter decides to bring them to lunch someday and see if MJ is interested in having a lunchtime debate about child labor. But it’s still kinda weird.

And then it escalates. Peter starts to notice members of the Decathlon team staring at him during practice, even when he’s not at a buzzer. Sally keeps inviting the team out after school; the number of extended Decathlon team practices at froyo and boba places skyrockets. 

Ten minutes after English class starts, Peter is sent to the social worker’s office on a recommendation, and they spend fifteen minutes discussing his extracurriculars. Peter has to make up a lot of stuff about this cool new dance team he’s joined that’s somehow associated with his Stark internship. 

Abe and Cindy begin bumping into Peter at his locker and walking him to his train. He’s sandwiched between them, like a prisoner going to court. It’s cumbersome. Peter always has to double back and sweep for stray vigilantes in front of Midtown, just in case someone needed something but didn’t approach because they don’t know how to interact with normal children. 

This is an extra complication that Peter does not need in his life right now. And though it’s nice not to have Flash harassing him daily, it’s not worth having to listen to Deadpool whine about how loud and annoying everyone at Peter’s daycare is, and why did Peter leave him alone for half an hour? Now they’re late for their appointment at the cat cafe, and it’s all Peter’s fault.

So, yeah, Peter needs to know what’s going on now. And there are really only two people he could ever ask.

——

“Dude, why’s everyone being so weird to me lately?” Peter drops his lunch tray onto the table with a clatter.

MJ doesn’t look up from her book. Ned says, “What do you mean?”

“Just— everyone on Decathlon is being really weird. Like, Cindy gave me a business card with emergency hotline numbers on it two days ago? And Abe keeps on telling me that he’s here if I need to talk. Even Flash is being kinda weird. He hasn’t called me Penis in, like, a week. Do you guys know what’s going on?“

Ned looks nervous. MJ turns the page.

Peter widens his eyes, trying to telepathically ask, Do people know that I’m Spider-Man? Please tell me, or I will actually explode out of stress. He doesn’t know if Ned gets that exact message, but it does make him crack.

“Uh,” says Ned, “Uh, the Decathlon team may be under the assumption that— that you’re a, um— “

“—A prostitute,” MJ finishes.

Peter looks at them. Then down at himself. Then back at them.

“What?” he says.

Ned looks very uncomfortable. MJ shrugs.

“You look better. You dress better. You get picked up at the school gates by an ever-changing rotation of hot older people,” she says. “People notice.”

“Ew,” Ned says.

“Look me in the eye and tell me that Jessica Jones and Luke Cage are not hot,” MJ says.

Ned pauses. 

He says, “No, yeah, I can’t do it.”

Peter still hasn’t recovered the ability to speak.

Finally, he croaks out, “So, you’ve all been spying on me when I leave school?” That seems very bad for his secret superhero double life.

“No,” Ned says reassuringly. Then he adds, “But, there’re a lot of photos.”

Shit. Peter’s screwed.

“Nothing bad,” Ned adds quickly. “Nothing— explicitly incriminating. Just— did you know that you lean towards people when you talk to them?”

No, Peter did not know that. Nor did anyone else ever need to know that.

MJ pulls out her phone, taps a couple times, and shows the screen to Peter. It’s a very well-edited photo collage of Peter talking to Mr. Rand, Peter being dragged away by a dressed-down Black Widow, Peter being picked up by a disguised Mr. Stark, Peter whispering to Hawkeye…

It’s kind of damning, even without the Spider-Man suit in sight.

“Where did you get these from?” Peter says. “I haven’t seen these anywhere.”

“Oh, they’re not from the AcaDec group chat. They’re from a separate chat. Here.” Ned hands over his phone. It’s open to a group chat named “peter parker is a shady ho.” Everyone on the team is in it.

“What the fuck,” Peter says emphatically. “What the  _ fuck _ .”

“Yeah,” Ned nods. “I’ve been trying to change it to ‘Peter Parker Protection Squad,’ but Flash keeps changing it back.”

“That wasn’t Flash,” MJ says. “That was me.”

“Wha— Why are you guys in on this, too? You know I’m not a prostitute!”

“I’m trying, but— “

“I don’t actually know that,” MJ interrupts. “You talk a lot about your internship, but never about the specifics of what you do.”

“It— That’s because it’s confidential! Not because I’m trying to— lie by omission or anything. I’m not a liar!”

Both Ned and MJ give him pitying looks.

“Peter,” Ned says gently. “You lie constantly. Well, not constantly. But, like, a lot. And you’re really bad at it. It’s just that everyone trusts you enough to let it go.”

Peter pauses. That’s really nice of them, actually.

But— “Then why aren’t they letting this go? Why does anyone care if I’m— prostituting myself or whatever?”

“Because we care about you, nerd,” MJ says. 

Everyone pauses.

Then MJ clears her throat and adds, “Also, we’ll get disqualified from State if the judges find out one of our members is engaging in illegal activity.” She looks down at her book.

Peter still can’t hold back his smile.

He says “Thanks,” and MJ pretends she doesn’t hear it. She turns the page. Today, she’s reading  _ The Second Sex _ .

Ned pats Peter’s hand and gives him an apple slice.

After a moment, Peter says, “Okay, but I still want this to stop. Please tell the chat that I’m not a prostitute and then never bring this topic up ever again.”

“I don’t get why you’re so concerned about this,” MJ says, “Sex work is just like any other work, except that it’s stigmatized by old male politicians who view women’s bodies as a commodity that only they have the right to possess and privatize, the wills of actual women notwithstanding.”

“Yeah, but I still don’t want my classmates to think I’m selling ass to Hawkeye.” Peter jabs at his rubber school-lunch hotdog.

“Oh, they don’t think you’re selling ass to Hawkeye anymore,” Ned says. “They think you’re selling ass to Jessica Jones. Betty got a picture of her picking you up after practice yesterday. The angle was, uh— kind of ambiguous.”

Peter pushes his tray away, so he can slam his forehead onto the lunch table. It’s sticky and gross.

“My whole life is a dumpster fire,” Peter says.

——

On Thursday, the Decathlon team sits Peter down after practice and holds an intervention.

“This is an intervention,” Cindy says. She has her arms crossed, and she’s standing in a row with Abe, Sally, and Betty. Flash is kind of slouching at the end of the line. Ned and MJ are hanging out at the side of the classroom. 

Peter would try to run, but they’re blocking the door. He glances at the windows.

“Nope, Ned, grab him,” Betty says.

Ned walks over and sits beside Peter, tapping him on the wrist apologetically. 

Peter glares. Traitor.

“Okay,” Cindy says. “First, we want to say that we aren’t trying to attack you or anything, but as your teammates, we have certain concerns that we feel like we need to address.”

“Yeah,” Flash says. “Like how we’ll get disqualified from State if you don’t stop selling ass.”

“Flash!” Abe says, before Peter can open his mouth to protest. “Shut up!”

“Flash,” Betty says calmly. “If you can’t follow the script, you can’t be here at all. Don’t make me kick you out, because I totally will if you do what you did during rehearsal two.”

Flash sulks. Peter finds his voice.

“I— “

“We know you’ve been having a hard time lately, and we haven’t been giving you much support,” Cindy says over him. “But you shouldn’t turn to prostitution at such a young age.”

“I’m not— “

“Yeah, Peter,” Abe says. “You’re a smart guy. There’re so many other things you could be doing.”

“Guys— “

“But if you insist on doing this,” Sally says. “We hope you know you can talk to us. About anything.”

“Don’t be a stranger, Peter,” Betty adds.

Flash mumbles something that Peter can’t pick up, even with his spider-enhanced hearing. 

“Guys, this is— really nice of you,” Peter says, “And thanks for worrying about me— but I’m not a prostitute.”

Cindy looks sad. Abe looks disappointed.

“I’m not!” Peter insists.

“Then why are so many different adults escorting you from school?” Betty asks.

“They’re people I know from— the Stark internship,” Peter says. “I, uh— bake snacks and leave them in the break room a lot, so we chat.”

“That doesn’t mean they need to pick you up from school,” Abe says.

“Well, I, uh— I also take orders. For baked goods. So, I bake them stuff, and in exchange they drive me to the internship.”

“Most of them don’t show up in cars,” Sally notes. 

“They park further away. Look, guys, just trust me. I’m not a prostitute. I’m not prostituting myself.”

No one moves or says anything.

Then, Betty carefully asks, “Is it compensated dating?”

“No! No, nope, not— anything like that. Nothing on that spectrum at all.”

“You sure?” Abe says.

“Yes, I’m sure! Guys, I am not a prostitute,” Peter says. “I am not a prostitute. I am not— selling myself, okay? I just— I like to bake, and other people like to eat the things I bake. That’s it. That’s all.”

The team exchanges glances. Then they look at MJ and Ned.

Ned nods several times in confirmation. MJ shrugs.

“You must be really good at baking, if people are showing up at school to come get you,” Cindy says skeptically.

“Yeah,” Peter nods. “Yeah, I’m just— a really good baker. Not a prostitute. Sorry about worrying you guys.”

Flash scoffs and goes back to lounging around like he owns the team. Abe’s shoulders drop, and he looks relieved. Cindy and Betty don’t look totally convinced, but they’ll get over it. Peter wants to erase this experience from his memory as quickly as possible.

“Wait,” Sally squints. “You aren’t baking pot brownies, are you? Because if you are, and you haven’t been sharing them with us, I’m gonna be very disappointed in you, Peter.”

“Oh my God,” Peter says. He resists the urge to backflip out the window and run.

**Author's Note:**

> Coming next: A wedding
> 
> On the drawing board: A war in two parts
> 
> Keep an eye out for me tomorrow, and as always, thanks for reading.


End file.
